Survivor
by Lucy Kay
Summary: Charlotte Ames is... most likely out of her mind. The budding survivalist hasn't really belonged anywhere; neither has her sprite. This dysfunctional pair will ring the bells, prove everyone wrong, and somehow be happy in the end. Maybe. Animal Parade Fluff. Crack couples. (No canon pairing is safe!) Triple Rewrite, oh dear goodness.
1. Of Introductions and Rope Burn

Hello, my name is Lucy and I would love to welcome you to this little story of mine: _Survivor_.

First of all, I would like to thank you for checking this out. I'm not the clingy type, so I won't beg you for reviews, but I can't lie – they make me happier than a spring chicken. Or just someone in spring… It's a lovely season. Anyways, thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy this adventure of ours until the last scroll of your mouse! =)

Secondly, THIS IS A RE-WRITE. That's right, folks, this is freshly stale. This story has lingered on this website since I first started writing here. And I love it to pieces! But not together as a whole, if you get my drift. Therefore, I have decided to recreate this to fulfill the standards you, as my readers, clearly deserve. Don't despair; this story was so shitty before – I'm doing you a favor by deleting it.

And lastly, I would like to assure all my old readers that most everything will remain – just not the stupid. Sherry will be loony, Faramir will be puny, and the bachelors will be confused. Even though it's a debatable topic, I also decided to make Castanet an island. Simpler to write. I have a ton of great new ideas I hope to toss in here – lots of warm tummy feelings! Aren't those the best?

Slight warning: I'm using a bit more… cursory… language than before. I'm not a fan of the worst words, but I'm rather prone to use just about everything else. I'm so sorry! I'm such a mud mouth these days. But I feel that some characters would use this language, and they wouldn't be quite the same without it. I'll always give a warning at the top in case you're uncomfortable with that sort of thing though.

Past Readers: This chapter was only edited slightly. That's why it looks so familiar. This won't happen frequently, maybe not even at all after this chapter. I just had some hard times working with the introduction and felt this was the best of the trials.

Without further ado, I would like to reintroduce my favorite little lady. Charlotte is so dear to me – perhaps by the end, she'll be close to you, too!

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><p><strong>Of Introductions and Rope Burn<strong>

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><p>"CAW! CAW! CAW!" I mimicked the seagulls and laughed, scaring half of them away. Their caws continued on into the distance of the morning horizon.<p>

I'm a world-travelling, globe-trotting, fearless explorer. I made a vow to explore every biome, climate, and region on this great Earth and survive there for twenty days. Out in the wilderness. All by myself! With just my trusty duffle bag loaded with my crap and my little sail boat – also loaded with my crap. I'm going to scale mountains. I'm going to tame oceans. I'm going to conquer nature. I'm going to make Indiana Jones look like a pussy. Well… that's kind of impossible. He's too amazing. Totally my hero.

Anyway, my itinerary included the globe and I was about to see the world; and the world's about to see me. When I was old and gray and my adventures were through, I'd write a book about all my riveting tales my grandkids were sick of hearing. Heck, maybe I could be famous…

"Charlotte Elizabeth Ames, author of _I Survived the World, _has come to visit us here today! Let's give her a round of applause!" "Thanks, Oprah, but you're giving me way too much credit. I couldn't have done it without my insanely awesome survival instincts." "Wow, tell us about them, Sherry! May I call you 'Sherry,' Sherry?" "Why, of course, Oprah, Oprah!" Playful banter in front of a video camera on a fluffy couch and swimming in Pulitzer Prize-winning millions. Yup. I can see it now.

I sighed and sat back on the thin mast that held the single white sail. Honestly, it wasn't the most comfortable travelling device. I had to constantly change my position to get blood back into the part of my body that was currently numb, and I'm sure I lost all feeling I might ever have in my tailbone, and spiders appeared out of nowhere and scared the living daylights out of me, but this was _my_ boat. Bought with the majority of my inheritance, I might add. And soon the little clinker that I had been steering for three days would land me on my first destination: Castanet!

Haven't heard of it? Neither have I. A cute little musically themed isle boasting of fair winds, a steady crop, prize-winning animals, friendly residents, and a luscious landscape… I picked it because it looked easy… Hey, it's a good place to start, okay?

I voiced my thoughts aloud to my friend. "Hey, Wilson, how far from home is Castanet?"

The volleyball stared at me with gold-rimmed letters. Eyeless. Silent.

"Hm. You had much more fervor when you were partnered with Tom Hanks…" I speculated, shiftily glaring at my only companion.

The land had been approaching for some time now, and the details were already filling in. I could see a mountain on the far left with a cloudy crown and a town somewhere below it near the shore. I could see pastel colored buildings now, but what I was looking for was to my right. A large, dense piece of foliage that I was dying to get my hands into. I could totally survive here for a couple of weeks. Piece of cake!

The ocean's current fought me as the tides changed and tried to shift me back into the sea. I stood up, cracking my spine in the process, and snatched my oar. I paddled with all my might, but it seemed to be a wasted effort. Huh. And for an island boasting of 'fair winds' there wasn't a breeze around. Liars.

Feeling like this was going to wind up as some knock-off Bear Grylls stunt, I packed everything I had with me into my water proof duffle bag to avoid destruction and warily looked overboard into the cold water. I took down the sail and used the rope as a tie to myself, wrapping it tightly around my waist. I would need it in case my strength would wane, and I wasn't about to leave my boat out here by itself in the blue.

It sounded quite ridiculous, but I felt this was my last resort. There was no wind to carry my sailboat, my oar was too small to do much except navigate rocky streams, and I was itching for some action. Besides, I hadn't bathed in three days, so the ocean was looking pretty awesome at this point.

Shouldn't be too hard... Piece of pie - or was it cake? Flexing my fingers for a minute, I eyed the ocean below before kicking off my shoes and plunging into the waves.

I bobbed in the salt water before opening my eyes, feeling the burn of the water in the back of my throat. The first thing I saw was my locket floating up past my face, making its way over my head to freedom. I snatched at it wildly, clutching it in my fist. I looked up, seeing the light of day, and quickly swam up. I let out a gasp and a cough as I surfaced and rubbed my eyes, throwing the chain of the necklace back over my head and trying to look around over the waves. The waves were a lot taller now that I was a part of them. But nothing to fear! I only had to go about two hundred yards until I reached some sort of beach. I could probably make it.

That's good optimism right there.

The rope around my waist started to chafe my skin, working its way under my under-sized T-shirt. It was the only thing tying me to safety, but it was also my doom. Towing a sailboat wasn't exactly the dessert (whichever one) I was hoping it to be. But I had to remember that all I had was in that boat, and I was in the closest thing to paradise I'd ever be in. This was Level One. This was easy. I couldn't lose on the first level. What would I do in the desert? The arctic? Obviously curl up and die at this rate.

Gritting my teeth with determination, I threw my arms ahead of me with new energy. Waves choked me and when the sand below me came into view, it would tease me – just out of reach of my toes. I spit and coughed and tore through the water with the will to survive.

It felt like an hour, but I had paddled my way to the shore line. The second my feet touched sand, my arms rejoiced. I dragged myself up past my waistline and finally to the sandy shore, pulling the rope around me to bring the boat along, too. I threw myself on the ground, feeling like a beached whale. With what little strength I had left, I rolled over to face the sun.

I panted and coughed a little, grateful that I had left my boots on board and gone barefoot. I wouldn't know what to do if I had a soggy pair of shoes. They would have made that squelch-ing noise when I walked, and it would have lasted _days_. Gross.

I stared up into the blinding sky and felt content to simply lay there. I sprawled out, my jeans and T-shirt clinging to me, soaked to the core, and my purple hair every which way underneath me in the sand.

I closed my eyes and started to nod off… But no! How could I stop now? I was so close to the woods! All I had to do was get inside, build a make-shift roof, and then I could sleep to my heart's content. Plan made. Awesome.

I ripped myself up off the beach like I do from a bed every Monday morning and groaned. I made it up into a kneeling position and yanked myself into a standing position from there. I yawned, stretched, opened my eyes, and looked around me and my new home for the first time. The beach curved into a nearly empty river where a rather pointless looking water wheel turned with a melancholy creak. Looks like a fun route upriver.

At first, I thought about untying the rope, but then I realized the river really wasn't that deep. It would be easier if I kept directing my boat this way. Yay. I love this so much.

I walked back into the water, wading out to the center. It came up to my chest. The rope around my waist stung. Looking up towards shore, I could see a house was nearby, but I was going to ignore that because—I'm in the wilderness!

The bridge passed over head, casting a shadow over me and my boat. Even though I was exhausted, I didn't have to pull hard. There didn't seem to be a current at all here. It was very strange. At least for a river. Where were the white rapids? The grandeur? The adventure?

As I continued upriver, things didn't change much. I barely saw a single fish! Just a couple minnows resting in the shade of a sunken tree branch. That's hardly enough survival food. Seafood wasn't my preferred entrée, but I was going to eat a lot of it if I was going to live off the land. So far, those aspects weren't looking so hot.

When the trees became thicker at the river's bend (just around the river bend~! Sucker for Disney), I decided I had gone far enough. A pebbly beach greeted me, and I politely obliged, throwing myself onto the shore. I did it. All on my own! For the first time since the beach, the weight of the boat tugged harshly at my midsection. Now that the water was gone, I didn't have any help pulling it onto dry land. I gritted my teeth and pulled on the rope, walking backwards until the sailboat was ashore.

Without thinking of the stinging rope about me, I stumbled up to the side and leaned over, collecting my boots and duffle bag. The duffle bag was pretty light, considering the circumstances – my life was in it. I understood I would have to live very simply before making this trip, but a few luxuries seemed to pass through. Like what? Well, I had brought plenty of clothes. I couldn't leave my dresses behind – it's probably the most fashionable thing about me. Then again, I'm also wearing one of my only pairs of shorts. I had one pair of shorts and one pair of pants. All I really owned were dresses... I also had a couple of survival guides. And plant guides. And magnesium sticks. And soap. Oh my God, so much soap. And 500G… and my pocket knife… Er… looks like I already brought quite a bit. No souvenirs, no trinkets, no more personal belongings. Shouldn't be too difficult if I didn't add to the collection.

I looked down to untie the rope from me now that I had all my things, and took a sharp intake of breath instead. A small trickle of blood was dripping down the rope and splattering silently between my toes into the rocks.

I hesitated.

With the utmost care, I undid the knot (Jeez, I tied it pretty tight…) and started to unwind the thick, bristled rope from me. I grit my teeth and tried not to watch as the rope fibers unstuck from my skin. When the rope was off, I threw it to the ground in disgust and started to inspect the damage.

Almost none of my lower body was spared. My hips were the worst, carving a good deal and creating the blood flow out. A thick ring in the shape of the rope was wound about me like a gruesome belt. Chafing had been an understatement!

I pulled my shirt down over the cut, not quite concerned with ruining it. It was too small and rather old. It would be my first sacrifice. I tied my boat to a fallen tree with the blood-stained rope. So far, I was succeeding in looking like a rough and raw girl of the wilderness, that no one could deny! I debated taking all of my stuff, but in the end, I figured that I would have to start my survival days later. No matter how tempting it was to live out here with an injury – how dramatic! – I used my better judgment for once and decided to see a doctor as soon as possible. It's probably infected what with the ocean, rope fibers, and the stagnant river. In fact, I should hurry.

Leaving everything except my pocket knife and a change of clothes in the duffle bag, I turned toward the forest and climbed up the rocky shore to the trees. Bleary-eyed with drowsiness and barefoot (didn't bother with my boots after all – whoops), I ran through the pain and navigated my way through the woods. I didn't have a direction in mind, really, but I figured I would find open ground eventually. The last map I saw of Castanet said this forest wasn't so big.

_I probably should've followed the river back… Idiot! Survival points deducted…_ I grumbled to myself and threw a pine branch out of my face. It came whipping back at me with the same force and smacked me in the back of the head, sending me reeling forwards for balance. _Damn it! Your points are in the negatives now, soldier! Look alive!_

When I was about to give up hope/start arguing with myself for being so mean, I caught the feel of a regularly trodden path under my cold toes. Looking left and right, I saw it was man-made and used frequently. _Awesome! Now… which way to go?_

I did Eenie-Meanie-Minie-Mo, the most logical option at this point, and went right. I followed the path to a few clearings and fifteen minutes later, I caught sight of a giant, wooden gate.

I sprinted forward and pushed against it. A chain on the other side rattled in protest.

Blinking stupidly, I pushed again. I got the same answer from the chain. Locked.

"Oh, come on…!" I whined, throwing myself against the massive door. It was moss-eaten and splintered. Must've been in the forest like this for years.

I looked up and decided climbing would be out of the option. It was nearly ten feet of sheer wood – nothing to grab onto. Thinking the most obvious choice would be to go around it, but the brush was so thick, I couldn't even see past it. I would surely kill myself in the thorny thicket before I saw the other side.

"Help!" I called, at my wit's end. "Help me! Hey!"

I pounded me fists on the wood, trying to make as much noise as I could rattling the chain. The forest was quiet. Unresponsive but for the quiet call of a bird.

"I HATE THIS ISLAND!" I screamed, kicking at the door. "Help! Help! Hello? HEY!"

I pressed my forehead against the wood and sighed, regaining my breath. _This place sucks._

"Um… hello?"

The timid voice spooked me. I hadn't heard their footsteps. "Hello? Hi!"

"Um, hi," If I was correct, they were directly on the other side of the gate. "Who're you?"

"I'm Charlotte – er, Sherry. Sherry! Can you get this gate open? Please?"

"It's been locked for ages… How'd you get in there, 'Sherry?'"

It was a male's voice, I got that much. But I was annoyed with their slightly sarcastic tone and inquisitive nature. "Why should it matter? Can you just open this gate?"

"How do I know you're not the witch trying to trick me into letting you out?"

"WITCH! Oh God, no one told me about a _witch!_ That's so scary, I might just – seriously? What are you, four? What kind of an idiot are you to believe in witches? Dude, seriously. Open this gate," I boldly insulted my only hope for help. My cheek often did more harm than good.

Picking on him wasn't the best idea, but it just came out. To my relief, the guy actually laughed. That's a first. Normally when I get that bitchy, guys take a hike. "Okay, okay, 'Sherry.' That was stupid of me. I'll go find the key or someone who might have it. But couldn't you just climb over?"

"I'm hurt," I mumbled, feeling pretty pathetic. "Actually, is there a doctor on this Castanet of yours? That'd be great if I could have a word with him."

There was silence on the other end. It felt sort of like a telephone conversation since I couldn't see him. After another few seconds of silence, I decided my rescuer wasn't the best in an emergency. Probably the panic type. "Um... bleeding over here!"

"Er… uh – okay! I'll be right back then – don't move, okay? I'll go get Dr. Jin and—"

"Um… key first would be nice, thanks."

"Oh! Yeah! Right. I'll be right back, okay? Don't… don't move!"

"Wasn't planning on it, buddy."

"That's good! Don't do anything dumb while I'm gone—"

"I'm not dying."

"Okay! Um… I'll…"

"Go do that now? Yeah, that'd be awesome."

"Yeah! Er – okay. Be right back, Sherry—"

"GO!"

After that, I didn't have any nervous retorts. Total panic type.

I sunk down to the ground and leaned against the gate, hugging my waist. The initial bleeding had stopped, but that wasn't a whole lot to be happy about. What I would do for some Neosporin! I could bandage this up myself and get to living in the woods. Now I have the local population involved. Just what I needed.

I drifted in and out of sleep, closing my eyes at four or five minute intervals. When I started to slink to the side to finally give in to my dreams, I heard rapid footsteps again.

"Sherry? My name is Jin," A more level-headed voice introduced.

I was too tired so I grunted in reply.

"How old are you?"

"Wha…?"

"Stay awake, Sherry. Answer the question."

"Twenty-two…"

"Where are you from?"

"Mmf."

"Sherry, answer me, please."

I didn't bother asking him why he was asking me all these weird, unnecessary questions. "Casper. Wyoming."

More footsteps approached, and I heard voices conversing with one another. The calm voice was directed at the gate, but I barely heard him. "Luke has the key to the gate, Sherry. You'll be out in a minute."

"'Kay…" I shrugged, not thinking about where I was. The lock to the gate clicked, and the door was pulled back. Well, I was kind of leaning on that, so I tumbled backwards and fell on somebody's sandals.

I looked up into lavendar eyes similar to mine and a peachy blond head. "Why, hello there."

"Whoa, what happened to you?" Another unfamiliar boy gasped, pointing at my waist. He had blue hair and copper eyes that were riveted on my cut.

"Oh. That," I looked down, still not removing myself from the boy's sandaled feet. "That would be my injury. Rope burn."

Both boys made a wry face, sickened that a rope could do that or sickened that they had to see it. The doctor named Jin had a case with him and was already kneeling by me. What I thought to be gelled back hair was really just a slick ponytail. I rarely saw guys with long hair back in Casper. Now here are three. Well, peachy doesn't have that long of hair. But come on… it's pink!

"Sorry about the questions, Miss – had to keep you awake. Didn't quite know what I was dealing with," The doctor apologized as he brought out disinfectant and wraps of bandages.

"No problem – you're just trying to help. I understand…" I yawned. I finally lifted myself into a sitting position and freed the boy's feet. I noticed that Jin was uncapping another bottle and my stomach tightened. "Wait, what are you doing? Not out here!"

"Just taking some quick measures before we can get you to the clinic. Cain should be able to pick you up no problem," He explained. He suddenly paused. Looking up at the two boys who were staring at my bloody waist, he snapped his fingers impatiently to get their attention. "Ahem! Cain?"

"Oh yeah!" Luke nodded. "I'll go get him!"

"Thank you," Jin said coldly, annoyed with the pace of his colleagues.

Luke took off down the path that led from the forest and disappeared from sight. His voice didn't though. "HEY! CAIN! MAN DOWN! MAN DOWN!"

"Dear, God…" I covered my face in embarrassment.

"Chase, could you prop her up—"

"Nope, that's okay," I intervened, humiliation killing my weariness. "I can sit up on my own."

"I'd rather not take any chances," The doctor said evenly.

"No chances? I _like_ chances," I threw myself to my knees and staggered until I was balanced. I lifted my arms in the air. "See? There we go! Bandage me up, doc."

Jin didn't appreciate the nickname. He gave me a withering look. "Please cooperate, Sherry. You're only making this more difficult."

I sighed and so did the pink-haired boy behind me. _What did I need support for anyways?_

My question was answered. Holding up his bottle of antiseptic, Jin motioned for me to lift my shirt. My face blanched and then went hot. "Not all the way, right…?"

Jin shook his head. Okay, good. Really didn't need nudity on the list of strange ways to introduce myself, thanks.

I pulled up my shirt over my stomach, and a hand rested against my back to keep me standing on my knees. Jin came forward with a large cotton swab and pressed it to my skin.

"OW," I snapped, twitching back instinctively. The hand kept me from reeling backwards, and Jin came back to continue the temporary fix. I buried my face in my shirt.

"What caused this, Sherry?" Jin asked conversationally.

"I was tugging my boat. I… er, didn't notice the damage until I was on land."

"That was pretty careless of you," A bitter comment came from Chase who sounded huffy. Much different from Mr. Panicpants I had heard earlier, but I was sure the voice belonged to the same person.

"Careless? Perseverant, thank you," I sniffed, taking the same tone he had.

"You sailed here?" Jin asked, ignoring our sudden stand-off.

"Yeah. Took me three days."

"No wonder you smell like a fish," Chase said rather observantly.

"Luke, you've got to be more clear than 'man down…'" Cutting off whatever remark I had, a strong man was walking up the path with Luke jogging ahead of him like an excitable dog. When his eyes caught me, he stood stock still. "What the hell—?"

Jin got most of the dirt from my hips. It made me sick to my stomach to see his used cotton swabs coated in brown sand and blood. Was it really that bad?

"Will you be willing to carry Miss Sherry to the clinic, Cain? There's been an accident," Jin voiced, cutting the awkward silence.

"Yes, of course," Cain nodded quickly.

When he got the first chance, Chase backed away from me, and Cain and Jin helped me stand. I wanted to tell them that I wasn't that weak, I can walk, et cetera et cetera, but they wouldn't have heard me anyways. Seriously though, the last thing I needed to finish off this awkward scenario was to be carried. Wish granted!

The middle-aged man suddenly swept me up bridal style. I let out a surprised yelp at suddenly being in the air and he laughed. "You're lighter than my Renee!"

Sure. Okay. That makes sense to me.

"Don't strain yourself... Are you sure you don't want to use your cart?" The doctor asked.

Cain grunted, but lifted me higher. "No problem here, Jin. I've got her."

"Careful, then," Jin instructed. He turned to the two boys. "Thank you for your help."

The thanks was the same as dismissal from a teacher. Cain walked from the forest with me in tow, and the two boys were left by the gate.

"Bye, Sherry! Hope you get better!" Luke called, waving.

"Thanks!" I waved back from over Cain's shoulder.

This was the weirdest ice breaker ever.

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><p>—Copyright Information—<p>

I do not own anything you may recognize which includes but is not limited to the Harvest Moon franchise, the name Faramir from The Lord of the Rings, or any songs used by Celtic Woman or Enya. This is a fan-made story only intended for the entertainment purposes of others.


	2. Of Medicine and Bipolar Boys

Thank you for reading!

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><p><strong>Of Medicine and Bipolar Boys<strong>

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><p>Choral Clinic wasn't the typical hospital I was expecting. It had all the essentials of the average and mundane: white washed floors, ceiling, and walls, a tight back room with a few beds in a row, uncomfortable cots, antiseptic in the air…<p>

But it was atypical, too. There were vases with flowers that looked healthy; there were open windows and fresh air moving through. If anything, this was like a really sterile home.

After Dr. Jin and his assistants Irene and Anissa bandaged me up, I was given the night to 'recover.' I was honestly feeling fine, but I was exhausted so I didn't argue the bed provided and hit the hay as fast as I could.

I awoke the next morning feeling comfortable and refreshed. I rolled over in bed yawning, hugging my pillow tight. A happy bell rang in the distance, but it continued and the peals increased in volume. It was like a song to start the morning.

Given free range of the shower was awesome. I scrubbed away the dirt and grime, changed into the fresh yellow dress stashed in my duffle bag, and emerged from the bathroom in high spirits dripping water all over the slick tile floor.

"Do the bells ring every morning? They're so lovely!" I commented, spinning around near the front desk by the old woman. I didn't see the other assistant around, so I had to figure she didn't live here like this woman and the doctor.

"No…" She replied, holding a limp bowl in her hand full of ground herbs. I knew her name was either Irene or Anissa, but I wasn't about to guess. "That was the first bell I've heard in a long time… since I was a little girl."

"Really? Why don't they ring more often?" I asked, leaning on the counter.

The old woman looked me up and down, noting my hair dripping water onto her desk. "My grandson told me you are new here. How did you get here?"

"Sailboat," I smiled. "I'm a survivalist. So I won't be in town often, I guess."

"Oh?"

"Yeah! I'm gonna see the world!"

"Mm-hm."

"You sound doubtful."

The woman shrugged, the shawl wrapped so tight around her bony shoulders it restrained her movement somewhat. "Sounds like a pretty big goal, if you ask me. A lonely one, too."

"So?"

She suddenly glared. "You have a smart tongue, young lady."

Ooo, forgot you weren't supposed to 'so' old ladies. Eee… "Er, sorry about that."

She continued to stare me down. Guess she didn't appreciate my sass though I thought it was rather mild this morning. "Besides, it sounds childish to me. Do you know the kinds of funds it takes to travel? If you're going to see the world, you've got quite a ways to go."

I shrugged, but didn't reply. What would I say? 'Yeah, I know. But if I had money bags, I'd be on my way. This is only level one – your place looked cheapest.' Didn't think that was a good idea either.

So I leaned further still and watched her work with the mortar and pestle, grinding plants into medicine pulp. She noticed me watching after awhile and suddenly sighed.

"Will you teach me?" I asked curiously.

"Teach you?"

"Yes! Please? I'd like to know about the native plants and herbs. It'd be good to know if I get caught in a bind out in Fugue."

The woman who had bristled at first had her feathers smoothed and she smiled, brimming with the opportunity to instruct. Soon, I was behind the counter with her as she showed me all sorts of different herbs that had been dried and preserved. Apparently, the most dangerous plant they had on the island was poison ivy. Guess it could be worse, but I was severely allergic. I'd better keep my eyes peeled just in case.

As we ground herbs together, I introduced myself. "My name's Charlotte, but most people call me Sherry. What's your name?"

The old woman chuckled. "My name is Irene. I'm Jin's grandmother."

"That explains things a bit," I admitted.

"What are you doing out of bed?" Jin asked, stepping into the room suddenly from the front door. He had just come back from running some morning errands and was setting down a paper bag of groceries on the counter.

"Hush, Jin, she's learning about herbs," Irene scolded. She adjusted her grey bun lying low at the nape of her neck. "Besides, she's plenty fine. You always baby your patients."

Slightly embarrassed, Jin stood quietly from where he was, just watching us. I giggled to clear the air and showed him my little bowl. "See? I know how to make bodigizer!"

Irene reminded me it was just a foundation. There was much for me to learn – I couldn't just make medicine like a trained botanist in an hour of study. Sheepishly, I acquiesced and handed the bowl back to her, feeling I insulted her profession.

"Very well – time for a check-up, Sherry," Dr. Jin announced, pointing to the back room.

I obeyed and skipped to the back, sitting on the edge of the bed and kicking my feet. He had me lift my shirt over my stomach so he could see – only I was wearing a dress now so things were going to be twice as awkward. To my relief though, he was the perfect gentlemanly doctor and didn't blink an eye. He examined the wound, changed my bandages, and prepared some painkiller. Of course, I wasn't going to be that easy about it.

"Sherry, this should reduce the pain. It may not taste like candy, but it will help," He held up a spoon of red liquefied medicine.

I shrugged and stuck the spoon in my mouth. I violently spit it out onto the floor a second later.

"Eh! Gross! Bleck! Not candy?! …Ugh, sick! Not exactly a spoonful of sugar…! That was muddy shoes at best!" I whined, rubbing my lips on the back of my hand.

"Please just take your medicine – it's not that bad," Jin said, getting a fresh spoonful ready.

I crossed my arms. "You wouldn't know – you don't have to eat it."

Jin rolled his eyes. "Miss Sherry, please –"

I let out a huff.

"Don't be such a child. Just take the medicine."

Suddenly glaring, I took the spoon from him. "Just so you know… I like your grandmother better."

I gulped the medicine, twitching only slightly. Jin smirked and took the spoon from me, capping the medicine bottle and twisting it shut. How dare he smirk? Smirking like he won this round...

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><p>After a nice nap, it was agreed I would leave. My injury was well enough to not cause infection, and the antibiotics in the medicine guaranteed that. Of course, with my hyperactive nature, I didn't convince the clinic people that I wouldn't be hurting myself again.<p>

I was in the back on a cot, but I could hear the voices in the lobby. I didn't pay them any attention until I heard my name.

"—Sherry... doing much better."

"…her?"

"Of course. …see… why not."

Scrambling into bed, I didn't move a muscle as footsteps came towards the back. I only realized too late I was facing the door when the pair came in. And I was terrible at faking sleep. I always wanted to laugh.

"As you can see, she's just fine. Just taking a nap before she can leave," Jin's voice explained.

"She doesn't look like such a sarcastic livewire when she's asleep," Chase's voice commented.

"Most people don't," Jin killed it. "If you want, I can wake her—"

"No, no, that's fine. I'd rather… she not…"

"Very well."

I couldn't take it anymore. I don't know why my body thinks fake sleeping is so funny, but God, I was going to explode. My eyes snapped open and I let out a fake yawn to kill the giggles. I stretched, sat up, and made a big show of: 'Yes, I really was sleeping just now; visitors? What a pleasant surprise.'

My eyes drifted over to the door where Chase was attempting to turn around, but the doctor was in the way. He turned back around with a haughty smirk.

"Why, hello," I greeted, thinking it was nice of him to visit.

"Like I was saying – you don't look so crazy when you're asleep."

I blinked at that. "Anything I can do for you?"

"I didn't visit to make small talk – I just pulled the short straw. Luke wanted to know if you were doing alright, so now I'm gonna go back and tell him you're alive."

"Oh. Okay. That was nice of him!" I accepted the lie. "I wish he came. I wouldn't have to wake up to somebody so scathingly bitter."

Chase's purple eyes flashed. "You're lucky I came at all. I could've just ignored him and forgot about you."

"Whatever; you're loss," I shrugged, trying to piss him off. "If Luke came, you wouldn't have gotten the opportunity to stalk me when I slept. That's pretty creepy, you know. Are you one of those pervert types?"

Fuming, Chase threw his hands in the air, shouted a good-bye of some sort, and stormed away. Feeling satisfied I had won this battle, I hopped from the bed and smoothed out my dress.

Jin just watched the whole scenario with detached indifference. Finally, he came up to me and took the bottle from the bedside table. "Just one more spoon of this and you can—"

"Nooo!" I howled, throwing myself onto the bed and diving under the covers.

Perhaps I just can't win things.

* * *

><p>—Copyright Information—<p>

I do not own anything you may recognize which includes but is not limited to the Harvest Moon franchise, the name Faramir from The Lord of the Rings, or any songs used by Celtic Woman or Enya. This is a fan-made story only intended for the entertainment purposes of others.


	3. Of Fugue Forest and Leprechauns

I realize now I never mentioned how long this is going to be... Well, it's enormous!

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><p><strong>Of Fugue Forest and Leprechauns<strong>

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><p>That nasty medicine wound up costing me a pretty penny. So did the room. And the bandages. And the 'et ceteras.' When I left Choral Clinic, I had spent exactly half of my starting funds. I had 250G to last me the rest of my twenty days.<p>

"You're not allowed to get sick again. Ever," I resorted to scolding myself on the way back to Fugue. "No more injuries!"

As I declared this outrageous declaration of things to declare, I fist pumped. Right into somebody's jaw.

I looked up in shock at the grizzled chin my fist came in contact with. Towering over my five foot two stood a giant six foot something man in a flannel shirt. The most hair on his head was in a scruffy brown beard that I just gave a vicious uppercut.

"I am so sorry—" I quickly retracted my fist and took a step back, fearing for my life.

The stranger smiled and rubbed his chin. "Got a nice arm, little lady…"

"I didn't mean to… Sorry. Are you alright?" I asked sheepishly.

"Just fine – don't give yourself too much credit," He put a firm hand on my head and gave me a pat. "What's your name, little lady?"

"I'm Charlotte!" I said from under his hand. "Call me Sherry though."

"Alright, Sherry. Are your parents nearby?"

I pushed his hand away from my head and held my chin high. "No, sir! I'm a survivalist – and a perfectly capable adult, thank you very much."

"Oh," The man stared at me, keeping his amused expression. "I'm sorry. Didn't mean to offend, little lady."

I let him keep the nickname and shrugged. "I get that a lot. I'm not exactly the tallest stalk in the corn field, but I can get by."

He laughed like Santa Claus. "I like your style, Sherry! Name's Hayden. I own the Brass Bar. Met my daughter Kathy?"

"No, sir," I shook my head. "I'm heading back to Fugue Forest for the time being. If I see her, I'll be sure to play nice."

"Good – Kathy would probably punch back," He grinned. "You take care now."

"Yes, sir!" I saluted and skipped by him towards the stone bridge.

Finding Fugue was more of a challenge than I expected. Because I was so tired on my last trip through, I could barely remember the paths we took to get to the Clinic. I wound up turning too far left and passing this ginormous farm before I began to climb the mountain. I decided that was wrong so I ran back and tried again, this time going straight. I was a little worried when I started to near the beach, but the path rounded about and led to a giant bridge leading to a farming district. And there's the river I took yesterday – and the house I decided wouldn't exist for my convenience. Excellent. I'm in the right place.

I found the forest soon enough and crawled my way back through the gate. Luckily, it had been left unlocked. "Learned their lesson – yeah, I taught them good…"

Walking in the forest alone, I could hear every leaf crunch underneath my feet and every bird above cry out my presence. The wood wasn't nearly as difficult to navigate now that I wasn't bleeding out my sides, but it was still a confusing maze of tree trunks and spiny bushes.

"Far beneath the bitter snow! Lies the seed… that with the sun's love – in the spring… becomes the rose~!" I sang merrily to myself to pass the time.

The yellow dress I was wearing kept getting snagged on branches and briars I passed. The clothes I had been wearing when I first arrived were ruined, so I had left them behind at the Clinic. Only now did I wonder if they threw them away… The best part about the clinic was the free hospital gown - hey, it wasn't stylish, but it was free! Or was it? Did I just steal from them? Hm. I was rude.

Foolishly thinking this now when I couldn't change it, I climbed over a rock and tried to dismiss it from my mind. The thought that I had met Hayden by punching him in the face wearing a short yellow dress with a stolen hospital gown sticking out of my duffle bag barefoot replaced the memory of my old clothes, and I felt he probably thought I was an orphan or an escapee from the psychiatric ward.

I whistled all thoughts away and focused on the forest again. The tune was _Steamboat Willy_. I had repeated it approximately seventeen times before I came across the ravine that would lead me to my boat.

Climbing down the bank, I ran across the pebbles of the beach and stopped before I hit the water. The bloody rope was still on the ground where I left it, so I untied it and tucked it in the boat where I didn't have to look at it. I checked my things and decided raccoons hadn't taken any of my shinies. After I put my boots on, I picked up Wilson in one arm and slung my re-packed duffle bag over my shoulder. Time to hike back into the woods to find a place to set up camp!

"I need a new song," I told Wilson. I posed like a gladiator with an invisible sword over my head. "Something daring! Something to get me motivated! Huah!" I swung said sword.

Wilson wasn't giving me any suggestions, so I went for the first motivational song that came to mind. "I wanna be the very best – like no one ever was! To catch them is my real test. To train them is my caaauuse! DA DA DA!"

The birds and Wilson didn't appreciate the song, but my dancing got me deeper into Fugue faster and louder. In case someone was missing out though, I sang at an ungodly decibel. "I WILL TRAVEL ACROSS THE LAND, SEARCHING FAR AND WIDE! EACH POKEMON TO UNDERSTAND THE POWER THAT'S INSIIIIDE!"

Stepping carefully around a blackberry bush interrupted my song for a few moments. When I was in the clear with a few scratches on my shins, I had forgotten where I left off. So I started again.

My volleyball was quite fed up with me by the time we reached the small clearing that would be our home. _The Pokémon Theme Song_ came to a halt when I stubbed my toe and started cursing nature.

"Alright, this is far enough. What do you think, Wilson? Should we scope out the area?" I asked, starting to really feel clinically insane talking to sports equipment because of an obscure movie reference. I set Wilson down next to my bag in the middle of the dirt patch and looked around at the surrounding pine trees. They were so tall that they blocked out most of the sun, and their trunks were barely visible from all the brush surrounding them. I took note that some of it could be poison ivy, so I should keep my distance.

I kicked the pine needles away and looked around for decent sized sticks. Checking the forest floor, I came upon the strangest sight I had ever seen. Which is saying a lot if you've followed me just this morning alone.

Blinking a few times, I realized the small pile of sticks at my feet was a home. The twigs were assembled carefully to create a tiny square cabin at the base of one of the pines. A roof of green branches completed the structure that was about eight inches all around.

I squatted down next to the house and peered through the itty bitty window. It was dark inside. I tapped the door with my finger. "Hello? Anybody home?"

There was no answer, but my heart quickened none the less. Forest faeries! Nana used to tell me about the delight of forest faeries when I was very little. If something went missing in the house, it was because we didn't need it as much as the faeries did or it was taken as punishment for something we had done to upset them.

Then again, Nana had a deep Gaelic background, and she would tell me the tales of leprechauns, too. I could still hear her twitter-y old voice as I used to sit before her on that ugly orange carpet of her living room. "Leprechauns are very dangerous! If naughty children don't listen to their mothers and fathers, the leprechauns will come on the full moon. When they're sleeping sound, the naughty children will be stolen away from their beds and taken to the deep underground where the leprechauns live, and they'll never be seen again! So mind your mother, Lottie. Leprechauns are nothing to be trifled with – and if you ever see one, stay clear! They're not friendly. They've been known to capture nosey travelers and cook them up for stew!"

I remember how mother was _so_ mad at Nana for telling me that. I refused to sleep alone for _weeks_. Even now I would get chills when I saw the full moon.

Still, it was a good story to remember. This little hut could be an adorable forest faerie – if treated well, a good luck charm! But if it was a leprechaun, I should clear out.

I bit my lip, trying to make up my mind. I wasn't exactly a superstitious person, but I had never seen a tiny house like this before. The safest thing to do was probably leave and pretend I had never seen anything. But… my curiosity was just killing me.

Deciding to take my chances as the 'nosey traveler,' I looked around for the nearest berry bush. Collecting a small handful of black raspberries, I laid them before the door of the house as a peace offering. Hopefully the faerie or leprechaun wouldn't be angry they had a new neighbor.

Still mystified, head swimming with stories and legends and excitement, I unloaded my things and collected long branches. Referring to my survival guide, I started to construct a triangle shelter. Like a house of cards, I propped the sticks together. I then took the flexible pine branches that were within reach above my head and sawed them down with my pocket knife, winding them through the sticks for a solid wall.

It was sunset when I had finished the sorry little triangle home. My hands were covered in sap, and I was starving. Greedily collecting berries, I feasted as much as I could on the bushes around me. When I was tired of picking and there were only a few ripe berries left, I was left with an unsatisfied hole in my stomach. I realized this wasn't going to be the first time I felt this way.

Taking my duffle bag, I threw it under my shelter. Only then did I remember the little house.

I ran back to the hut across the clearing. I couldn't help the smile – the berries disappeared! Then again… a bird or a chipmunk could've come by… Downcast, I started theorizing the house was just a child's toy they had assembled and had forgotten about. I went back to my own little house and curled up for a rough night of sleep.

* * *

><p>The first night in Fugue Forest was… hellish. I barely slept, bugs kept crawling on my legs, mosquitoes attacked my face and arms, the ground was cold and damp, and the sounds of various wildlife scrambling about in the night put me on edge. At one point, I even started thinking that leprechauns were watching me or that witch I had heard about earlier was probably waiting for me to fall asleep so she could eat me, too.<p>

So long story short, I didn't sleep much. After that experience though, I decided to go to bed before sun down – the anxiety would be cut in half if I wasn't awake to be paranoid.

Today I wore the hospital gown in case I got into any messy work - this way I wouldn't worry about staining it. It was a sickly, light blue color with hundreds of different kinds of triangles patterned across it. It was hideous. And it didn't close all the way in the back, so I wore it like an apron over my yellow dress.

I checked the little house again and couldn't find any sign of life – there was no way I was about to open the door though. If something was truly magical about the little hut, I would seal my fate faster than a girl in a horror movie opening a closet. I left four berries I found at the door again after taking some for myself and started trekking away from camp.

The only plus of the day was the quick start I got. Up before dawn, I made my way back to the river and tested the cold water on my face. I collected some in my canteen and decided today I would build my first fire. A fire would allow me to boil water to make it safe to drink and it would finish off the other half of the anxiety from night with its light.

By my boat, I hung around with my toes in the icy water for a good hour or two, just staring. I was a little zoned from my rough night and the loss of feeling in my bug bitten feet was relaxing. I was so still that as the sun rose, a few minnows began to gather near me to catch the first warm rays of the new day.

My stomach growled as I stared at the fish with frustration. I was starving to death already! After my fire, a spear would have to come.

In my slowed state, I had nearly decided to use my pocket knife to attempt to spear the tiny fish. I wasn't going to let myself be so stupid though. I left the water, walking on numb feet for awhile, before finding a large rock along the shore.

My first stroke of genius (that I dedicate wholly to my angry, desperate stomach), I found the minnows again and threw the rock down upon them. I missed a few times, but on the fourth drop, I managed to crush one. That gave me an almost insane confidence, so I continued the rock dropping game until noon. When I couldn't do it anymore, I had seven crushed minnows to eat.

Tickled pink with my success, I ran all the way back to camp with their scrambled little bodies in my hands and started to build my fire. I was actually disappointed. When I first arrived, I was determined to attempt all sorts of fire starting techniques. If all else failed, I would use my magnesium sticks. Well, I was so eager to eat my minnows and boil my water that I went straight for the magnesium sticks. "We'll leave that out of the book…" I decided, thinking of my Pulitzer Prize winning millions that seemed so far away.

I skinned my minnows with my pocket knife and put their tiny fish pieces on a rock. I thrust it over the fire, dropped most of the meat in the cinders, cursed the world, and burned myself collecting my precious food. In the end, I had about three bites of fish to savor. And I indeed savored every bite.

"I didn't even like seafood before this…" I mumbled, laying on my back and staring at the sky. "Wilson, this is going to be a lot harder than I thought."

Wilson didn't reply of course, but I felt something was off. I sat up and looked around, I took the fish pieces I couldn't eat and stored them as bait for bigger fish when I had the skill. If they lasted that long… But cleaning up, I found a tiny fish – half the size of my pink finger – in all the mess. I hadn't eaten one!

Excited at the prospect, I went about to skin it when I felt eyes on me. Stupidly, my first reaction was to look at Wilson. Derp. I turned my head and went to the next thing on my mind.

The little hut's door was closed, but a small figure was standing outside it. For the distance, I could surprisingly see the little guy was wearing all white robes and a matching hat like a night cap or Link's from _The Legend of Zelda_ (cough, uber nerd!). His face was large and his small black eyes were fixedly staring at me.

_Faerie…? No. Leprechaun! Leprechaun. Definitely leprechaun. Oh my God, I'm going to die. It's a leprechaun! It's a total leprechaun. It's going to eat me. I'm going to totally piss myself if it moves._

Staring at it wide-eyed, I fumbled with my pocket knife before putting it away. I couldn't pretend I hadn't seen it – I was just gawking at it! What could I do?! I couldn't run – everyone knew leprechauns were exceedingly fast.

My knees seemed to lock, but I looked down at my fish. _Peace offering!_ It had taken my berries – why not my fish? I tried to stand, but it was easier said than done when you're being watched by a mythical creature that was potentially sizing you up as a dinner special. I smoothed out my hospital gown and walked as calmly as I could over to the little hut bearing my minnow.

Stopping before him, I could see he had blond hair under his hat and the beady eyes were actually rather big for his face. His nose was tiny and upturned (typical leprechaun fashion!) and his mouth was the tiniest, emotionless line. It was hard imagining a set of teeth to rival a shark's was inside that thing.

Too afraid to kneel, I quickly placed the fish at his feet and backed away. For a leprechaun, he was awfully quiet. Nana always said they chatted you up before they killed you. She told me so many disturbing things... no wonder my mother was livid!

"H-er-hello!" I greeted pleasantly with a wavering plastic smile. He continued to stare at the fish for a moment before craning his neck backwards to look at me towering above him. "Yes, hello! My name is – er – Lottie!" _Dammit, Nana said to never say a name! His friends will hunt you down if you somehow escape and—_

I felt I was being a little too superstitious at this point. I mean, it was hard not to be. If this little guy was perfectly real before me, what made anything else Nana told me less real? Then again, I might be delusional and this is all a sad, pathetic dream…

"Er- or Sherry! See, my name's Charlotte, but a lot of people – er – most people that is, call me Lottie. No! They call me Sherry. Sorry. My Nana called me Lottie. And my mother. But you can call me whatever you want Mister…?" Still not getting a response and just rambling under his innocently terrifying stare, I swallowed and continued. "Um… can you speak? You know, the King's English? I don't know enough Irish-Gaelic… to… speak fluently…?"

The little leprechaun/faerie/thing looked back down at the minnow at his feet and then back up at me.

"Do you not want it? Should I cook it first?" I asked nervously. I found myself kneeling down to get to his level – his leprechaun spell powers must've been working to make me more vulnerable. Or I was just determined to hear him if he said something. That, too. "Can you speak?"

"I'm a vegetarian," He said in a shockingly loud, clear voice.

"Huh?"

"This is a fish," He stated, pointing at it with a sleeve that covered his hand for further emphasis.

"Oh… Oh!" I nodded, taking the minnow away. "S-sorry about that… Would you like some more berries then?"

He nodded once.

Like a servant scrambling for Queen Elizabeth, I dived away. I threw the minnow towards my stuff and immediately started plucking berries within sight. I had eaten most of them so it was more of a challenge than I wanted it to be, but I collected a good handful and ran back to the house.

Sliding on my knees in front of him, I came to a stop and emptied my hands of the berries at his feet. The little guy gave an almost imperceptible smile before he chose a berry and sat down with an unceremonious plop to eat. I watched him awkwardly for awhile until he had finished three berries. At that moment, he stood and gathered up three in his arms. He pushed the door to his house open and disappeared inside. He came back out and took new berries. He repeated this until all the berries were inside his home.

He didn't come back out.

"Um…" I managed. "Uh, nice to meet you! See you again sometime?"

My question went unanswered. The little hut looked as lifeless and quiet as it always had.

Sure he had taken a portal to Narnia and he couldn't hear me, I decided to wait for the next time he would make his appearance.

Leprechaun or not, I was interested. I wasn't sure what exactly I had seen, but I was determined I was wide awake when I had the encounter. I was going to see him again.

I clapped the berry bits away from my hands and stood. Finding my minnow again, I chopped it up and cooked it fast before popping it in my mouth. I spent the rest of the day watching the hut with wonder as I tended to my fire and gathered food around me.

Before I went to sleep that night, I looked towards the house again. Nothing changed, but I was still sure he would come back. I hummed myself to sleep. "Gotta catch 'em all…"

* * *

><p>—Copyright Information—<p>

I do not own anything you may recognize which includes but is not limited to the Harvest Moon franchise, the name Faramir from The Lord of the Rings, or any songs used by Celtic Woman or Enya. This is a fan-made story only intended for the entertainment purposes of others.


	4. Of Legends Alive and Bridges

New chapter! And yeah, that last author's note was incredibly vague. I'd just hate to scare you away... if I said... there were... seventy-four chapters? Don't hate me!

Thanks for reading. =)

* * *

><p><strong>Of Legends Alive and Bridges<strong>

* * *

><p>The days following what I liked to call my 'encounter,' were dull but progressive. I managed to fashion a spear though I never caught anything with it. I was more successful baiting traps for squirrels and rabbits in the underbrush. The first rabbit I caught made me cry, but the taste made up for my hurt feelings.<p>

My strange, little neighbor had begun to show his face more and more. At first, he would wait outside his door and when I would notice him, I would give him some food and he would go back inside. Then he started to watch me as he ate. He watched as I left for the river, as I brought back empty snares, as I gathered roots and plants that my plant guide said I could eat. Soon he even left his home and came to inspect my shelter.

I came back from the river once and caught him going through my duffle bag, examining my books. He flipped rapidly through the pages, bending and twisting them about. He went so fast I was sure he couldn't be reading. He didn't see me approach.

"Looking for something?" I asked.

I had caught him off guard and he visibly jumped. He flipped the pages faster and looked at my suspiciously. "What's in here?"

"What are you talking about?" I walked up to look down on him.

It was obvious he was nervous with me so close, but he allowed me to kneel down, and he didn't run away. "These. These things. What are you always looking at?" He demanded.

I stared at him a moment, not quite understanding, until I realized he couldn't read. And he didn't know what it was. "I was reading. Words – with pictures. They help me understand which plants in the forest are edible."

He glared at the pages another few minutes, wondering when they would make sense to him. Suddenly, he snatched the top of a page and made a long rip – dismembering the page from the book. He rolled it up with a quick nod and looked up at me. "I need this."

And with that, he scurried off to his hut and shut the door.

Whatever he was, I determined he was not a leprechaun. I had never heard a story about a leprechaun that waited days to finish you off. They were known to be impatient. He could very well be a forest faerie (considering he stole from me), but I always thought forest faeries took knick knacks and little items. Not pages from a book!

Maybe I would never know what the little guy was, but he fascinated me. I left my berries at his door every day, and he became slightly more apparent in my life. Steadily.

The more I visited the river, the more I found that it changed. When I first came, the river was quiet and shallow. Now the current moved and bubbled. White rapids appeared in the spots I easily waded before – now impassable. If I hadn't arrived when I did, I might've drowned with my little Bear Grylls stunt.

But the fish were increasing in size and number. I didn't have to play my sick little crushing game anymore – my spear was working and the snares I used on land doubled in the water. Although I wasn't catching enough to keep me full, I kept myself from starving.

I felt like a real survivalist.

Munching on a gnarled root that resembled a jaw breaker, I sat next to my fire to give myself a break. I had been on my feet this whole time, and I was feeling the fatigue. I was also pretty lonely – I hadn't been able to scare anyone with my obnoxious personality in a few days.

My foot was unexpectedly tapped. "Why are you here?"

Looking down at my calloused bare feet, I saw the little forest faerie in his white robe. He was so close this time I could see a little black belt to cinch it closed and matching little boots.

"Why, I am a survivalist, good sir," I answered with a terribly over-played British accent. "Might I ask the same?"

He cocked his head to the side in confusion at my change of voice. He looked at my foot again and mumbled something I couldn't hear.

"I'm ever so sorry, sir, but may you run that by me again?" I kept the accent once more.

"Why are you talking like that?" He asked.

"Why aren't you?"

He gave me a small smile – I was relieved to see his teeth were normal sized. Squashed the leprechaun thing once and for all.

I grinned and tucked my feet under me, resting on my knees. My dress was white, matching him. I decided to tell him so. "Look! I suppose we match!"

The little faerie looked down at himself and then back at me. With an enormous effort, he slowly used the same British accent I had and said: "I suppose we do…"

I laughed and clapped my hands. "Oh, you do that much better than I do!" I congratulated in my normal voice.

He smiled again, but he was spooked by my sudden movement. He was still at arm's length and slowly backing away.

I put my hair up in a high ponytail to act casual. He noticed this. "Well, almost… I don't have purple hair."

Nodding in agreement, I finished with my hair tie and smiled. "So what's your name? It's only fair – I told you mine."

"F… Faramir," He said, wringing his hands with worry.

"That's a cute name," I said. "So… Faramir, right? What exactly are you? Sounds rude, I suppose, but I've never come in contact with someone of your… stature."

Faramir looked away like he didn't hear me. I tried again. "Are there lots of you? Or are you the only one?"

"No one's like me," He shook his head.

"Aw, that must be lonely," I commented with a pout. "But it must be pretty neat being the only one, right? At this Catholic girl's school I was in, I was the only one with purple hair. Of course, the girl with the pink hair was way more popular, but it was fun feeling unique."

Faramir stared at me like I was insane.

"Um… so if you ever feel lonely, feel free to hop over here, okay?"

"Hop…?"

"Eh, just an expression. No rules," I smiled. Snatching Wilson from behind me, I introduced him to the faerie. "This is Wilson! He's very quiet," I scooted closer to Faramir and whispered: "He's shy…"

The befuddled expression never left Faramir's face.

"Well!" Um... This is awkward. "Want some berries?"

Faramir nodded, so I set Wilson down and went about collecting a few. I placed them next to the little guy when I was done. Instead of eating them outside, he collected them up in his arms and hurried back to his house, closing the door behind him.

I turned to Wilson. "Look! You scared him away!"

…

"Don't blame me! Goodness, you're so vindictive," I crossed my arms and refused to look at him.

After a few awkward moments being angry at Wilson, I decided to go for a walk and give the faerie some space. I crawled through the brush, and since I didn't take my boots, my feet came across many rocks and uncomfortable pine cones.

I started to run, thinking that would somehow stop the poking and scratching of my feet. Before I knew it, I was tumbling out of the forest completely.

I threw myself through a bush and lunged for tame grass. I landed flat on my stomach with a thud, practically knocking the wind out of me. Rolling over, I saw the sky filled with lazy clouds. There wasn't any wind to push them along, so they looked stagnant in the bright blue.

Propping myself up, I took inventory and was glad to see I hadn't shredded my dress and I wasn't bleeding excessively. My feet had fought a mini war with the forest floor though, so they weren't too happy with me at the moment. Brushing the pine needs and dirt from my skirt, I stood up and looked around.

I had a map back at camp, but from what I remembered, this was either that farming district or something called Flute Fields. Hey, I still needed to get a handle on the names – cut me some slack.

There was a ranch down the hill with a silent windmill. I took the opposite path where a few houses rested in the valley with a large farm. The grass almost tickled it was so soft. I had been in the forest for awhile, so it was rather a luxury, I suppose.

My feet took me to the large stone bridge. I leaned against the side and looked down – the current rushed underneath. The lazy water wheel I had first seen was spinning happily and churning water to power the mill.

I was staring at it, zoning rather, when I heard footsteps coming from the direction of the farms. I turned and was surprised to see a familiar face.

"Hey, it's curly top! What's up Shirley Temple?" I smiled and waved.

Chase stopped after passing me by. He hadn't noticed me at first – he was busy throwing his apron over his head and tying it in the back. He turned and looked me up and down. "Where's Tarzan or is Jane on vacation?"

"Close – never needed a Tarzan. Who do you hold at night? A frying pan, apron boy?" I crossed my arms.

He rolled his eyes. "Oh please, you of all people insulting my profession? You're a caveman, and you don't even get paid."

"Why don't you run along to 'work,' then? You know – that thing you have to do because you don't have dreams to follow."

"Why don't you return to the circus – Theodore's probably looking for you."

I smirked first. Then I started to laugh. "Ha, you're good! I like you, Chase. You've got style."

Confused and probably thinking I was being serious this entire time, his glare melted a little. "Sherry, right?"

"Mmhm," I nodded. "Where do you work anyways? You're a cook, right? Or do you just like to wear aprons?"

"Stalking me?" He asked with a smile as he crossed his arms.

"Maybe," I shrugged but smiled.

"The Brass Bar. It's not exactly the most… exciting place though," He admitted.

I cocked my head to the side. "Why?"

"Let's just say the fire isn't what it used to be."

This didn't make any sense to me, but I just nodded like I understood.

Things grew quiet, so Chase took the opportunity to leave. "See you around, caveman."

"Ditto, curly top!" I waved.

You know… Maybe he's not so bad.

* * *

><p>—Copyright Information—<p>

I do not own anything you may recognize which includes but is not limited to the Harvest Moon franchise, the name Faramir from The Lord of the Rings, or any songs used by Celtic Woman or Enya. This is a fan-made story only intended for the entertainment purposes of others.


	5. Of Mystery and Forbidden Mushrooms

Thanks for being patient! =)

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><p><strong>Of Mystery and Forbidden Mushrooms<strong>

* * *

><p>Gathering roots in the forest was difficult. Not necessarily the digging and identifying what was edible, but holding Wilson all the while so he didn't roll away was getting on my nerves. For someone who didn't talk back, I gave him way too much air time.<p>

"Honestly, if only you were born a square!" I grumbled, tucking him tighter under my arm.

I only found five decent roots, but I had the good fortune to stumble on a few early dandelions on my way back to camp. Next to the yellow weeds were a couple brown mushrooms. Although I was nervous - I double and triple checked my book - I was hungry to try something new.

Slamming the cover and tucking it safely in my bag, I nodded to Wilson. "Yup. You're right – they're Common Mushrooms. Safe to eat. Hopefully."

Wilson's gold lettering shimmered in the sunlight that streamed through the forest canopy. "You're making me doubt myself! Shut up!"

I snatched the mushrooms, had a mini celebration that they didn't secrete some sort of acid that would burn my flesh, and tucked them safely into my bag. As I was about to leave, a strange glitter caught my eye. Another mushroom.

"Good eye, Wilson! You know… if you had one," I prodded the volleyball, finally deciding on the air hole as his eye before placing him in the dirt and using him as a chair. "My mistake! Anyway, let's see what the book has to say about this one…"

Taking out my plant guide specifically for mushrooms, I went to the correct section for colorful mushrooms. The specimen before me was a deep purple with a slight lavender overtone. Dull fuchsia spots covered the head without any sort of pattern. Large dots small dots – all of them spots. The stem was white with gray underneath. Of course, I only examined it with a stick – I wouldn't touch it until I could properly identify it.

My brow wrinkled as I turned back a few pages and reread the section. "Hm… That's odd."

Wilson sat obediently under my bum.

"It seems we've found an unknown mushroom," I concluded with a twinge of fear. In the very beginning of the book, there were bold red letters that specifically said: NEVER TOUCH OR INJEST A MUSHROOM YOU CANNOT IDENIFY. ANY UKNOWN SPECIMEN IS BEST LEFT ALONE.

"Yet…" I contemplated stubbornly, watching tiny impossible sparkles flutter around the head tantalizingly. "It's so _pretty_."

I couldn't help myself.

…

What? You didn't think I ate it did, you? Goodness gracious, I'm not suicidal! I'm just idiotically curious!

I plucked the strange mushroom up from the ground with a large leaf, making sure not to touch it at all. Because I didn't have the extra arm anymore, I had to kick Wilson all the way back to our shelter. He wasn't too happy about that.

* * *

><p>Little faerie Faramir sat waiting outside his home. This was usual now – he wanted to see what I brought back and what I was willing to share.<p>

When he saw Wilson rolling up, he hopped to his feet. I came through the last bush, using an old deer path so I wasn't so scraped up. Faramir looked inquisitively at my cruel treatment of Wilson and then up at my mysterious leaf bier.

"Have anything good?"

"Yes, I think so! Do you happen to know what this is?" I knelt down and placed the leaf on the ground before him. Faramir covered his mouth, but I barely noticed the worry. "Isn't it so pretty? I found it in the seventh section of the woods."

"The seventh what?"

"Oh, it makes sense to some," I shrugged. "Do you know what kind of mushroom it is? I'm so hungry—"

"You can't eat it!" Faramir uncharacteristically shouted.

I sat back and stared at him. Then at the mushroom. Back to him. "But why not?"

"It's a Fugue Mushroom! It's extremely rare," He explained.

"Really? How rare?" I leaned over the sparkling mushroom as if to guess its price.

"There's only one a day."

"Oh, wow. It's like the Arc of the Covenant," I rolled my eyes, thoroughly disappointed with his definition of 'extremely rare.'

"It has magical properties," Faramir continued, unphased by my sarcasm. "The Witch or the Wizard would love to get their hands on this..."

I remembered someone once telling me about a witch. Ha, what a joke! But… Being acquainted with a forest faerie gave me a slightly skewed perspective of fantasy. And now I was willing to believe there really could be a witch. But now a wizard, too? Was this island crawling with the supernatural?! And more importantly - why wasn't this in the brochure?! I'm sure the Ghostbusters would've been here eons ago if they knew about this crap.

One question came to mind immediately. "Are they mean?"

"Who? The Witch and Wizard?" Faramir asked. After I nodded, he practically scoffed. "She can be bitchy, but she's hardly a threat. Closer to hurting herself than anyone else – and the Wizard is such a recluse most people don't even think he exists even though he lives in the middle of town!"

"Wow. That's a talent," I referred to the Wizard's ability to become a legend while living amongst those who disbelieved him. The curse word coming from Faramir's littel voice took me off guard, but I attempted to ignore it without smiling too wide. "So what should I do with this then?"

"Leave it be," Faramir nodded to the mushroom with decision. "Pretend you never saw it, and maybe they won't get mad that you killed and wasted it."

"Oh. How reassuring," I muttered.

Now comfortable enough with the Fugue mushroom, I picked it up and trudged back into the woods. There was an old stump nearby so I placed it gently on its surface.

Turning my back, I began to walk away when I heard a sound behind me. A sound that sounded like… movement. Whirling back around, I quickly checked my surroundings and saw nothing that looked out of place. There wasn't even wind to rock the branches. Everything was eerily still.

My eyes roamed down to the stump. Instead of the glittering Fugue mushroom, a small loaf of bread rested in its place.

Having a mini heart attack, I double checked the area and inspected the trees surrounding me. I couldn't find a trace that anyone other than me had been there. Not a stick snapped, not a leaf over turned, not a soul.

Thoroughly creeped out but hungry as hell, I took the loaf of bread and decided I just made a trade.

Getting back to camp as quickly as possible, I found Faramir nibbling on one of my roots. He looked up and twitched his itty bitty nose. Smelling the bread, he looked up at me. "Where did you get that?"

"I'm… not sure."

"Do you seriously eat just anything you pick up off the ground?!"

"No!" I defended myself. I told him what happened at the stump, but he didn't seem impressed by the spooky story in the slightest. "And no one was there! I checked, but I couldn't' find a trace of anyone else around."

Faramir shrugged. "Then it was the Wizard. The Witch is noisy – can hear her coming a mile away. She likes it that way, too... You should consider it a trade."

"I was! I just didn't get to that part…" I grumbled, sitting down.

Mystified and honestly a bit enchanted with the thought of a sly wizard roaming the woods like a ghost, I tore off a bit of bread and chewed slowly. I was so lost in day dreams wondering how the Wizard even knew where I was or that I had the mushroom; I almost forgot Faramir was still there.

"Here you go," I said and gave him a bit of bread. Without thinking, I gave him a couple pats on the head.

Faramir blinked twice as if wondering what to do. I feigned nonchalance and luckily it did the trick. Faramir went about eating his bread as if nothing had happened. He didn't even adjust his cap that was now slightly askew.

Maybe he's not a forest faerie after all… You weren't supposed to be able to touch forest faeries…

With all these thoughts buzzing around in my head, poor Wilson was forgotten and had to watch us eat our delicious bread from a distance. I'm fairly positive I'm the worst volleyball owner ever.

* * *

><p>—Copyright Information—<p>

I do not own anything you may recognize which includes but is not limited to the Harvest Moon franchise, the name Faramir from The Lord of the Rings, or any songs used by Celtic Woman or Enya. This is a fan-made story only intended for the entertainment purposes of others.


	6. Of Acorns and Seed Cake

Sorry this took so long! I really have no other excuse except that I was pulled away from it, and I couldn't find my way back. But you're not interested in my excuses. You're interested in another chapter!

Thank you for reading if you've decided to stick around. :)

* * *

><p><strong>Of Acorns and Seed Cake<strong>

* * *

><p>One morning Faramir left his house… And he almost never went back since.<p>

The little guy took to following me about and making comments on my work. Proving my theory correct, he wasn't sweet and cheery like the typical forest faerie was supposed to be. In fact, he was rather critical.

"What are you doing?"

"You're going the wrong way."

"That's too heavy for you."

"You're going to cut yourself."

"Is that how you always sit?"

"That looks poisonous/unripe/rotten."

"Do you sing all the time?"

"You use lots of soap."

Let's just say I started to appreciate Wilson's silence a bit more.

But that was a lie. Truthfully, I enjoyed Faramir's company – no matter how annoying it was sometimes. He was another voice besides my own. It was good to hear someone else talking for a change.

_No one back home would've ever believed this. A little faerie elf… thing! Alive and very much real and criticizing everything I did and said. Not many people could brag about that, now could they? I wonder if I should include him in my book…? I'd hate to appear insane. He might just make the cover as an imaginary friend though._

While I was coming up with the cover art in my head and picking berries, Faramir was rambling about something to do with my lack of shoes. He was quite talkative when the subject of my flaws came up, but if I ever talked back, he would shut up like a clam.

The sun wasn't out today. At first, I had thought it was the canopy of thick leaves and branches, but the expanse of grey clouds was unmistakable. I vaguely worried about rain, but I couldn't hear myself think anymore with Faramir chatting behind me.

I suddenly spun around and plopped a berry in his arms. It was so large he stumbled backwards somewhat and stopped his talking. Nibbling on it quietly, I left him again and went back to hurriedly gathering food for myself. The berry didn't last long and soon Faramir was at it again. This time with purple berry stains around his mouth.

"You take too many berries at a time. You're like a bear. Since there aren't any bears in this section of the woods, I suppose it's fine. You're not wiping out the berry population quite yet," He said. "And you walk funny. Like you've got a gimpy leg. Are you a cripple?"

I scrunched my nose at the insulting question, so I didn't bother asking him about the subject of bears living in the area. "I… no! It's called skipping! Happy people tend to skip."

"You 'skip' quite a bit then. And isn't it the same thing? You're going to offset your posture if you keep using your legs unevenly," His grumpy voice sounded from somewhere near my feet.

"Thanks for the tip," I nodded, pretending he was helpful. "OW!"

Faramir pounced on the opportunity to reprimand me. "See! And you never pay attention to what you're doing. Clumsy."

I rolled my foot back to see that I had stepped on an acorn. I bent low and picked it up, examining it closer as Faramir trailed off in the background. Taking out my pocket knife, I poked two little indentations and a curved line. I scratched all around the cap of the nut and grinned when I finished.

"—because honestly, you're starting to smell like them. It's weird," Faramir stopped when he saw what was before him in the palm of my hand.

I waited, but the little person just stared. "Go on – take it!"

"What is it?" Faramir asked, leaning forward on his toes curiously.

Thinking quickly, I answered: "Laura. It's a she. See? She's got long hair."

He blinked.

"And she's smiling! Laura's excited to meet you. Go on and pick her up!" I urged.

Faramir leaned into my hand, trying not to touch me, and picked up the acorn. He looked it over once, twice, and smiled. "Laura?"

"Yeah," I nodded, kneeling down now. "She's a little friend. You can talk to her for hours and hours and hours."

Faramir was quiet for a long while. During the silence, I was scared out of my mind that he would be offended and not want to talk to me anymore. I didn't want him to shut up completely; I just wanted him to… talk… less…? _I'm probably going to hell now._

But then he smiled. "…I wasn't expecting any presents today. No one really cares about my birthday."

"It's your birthday?!" I broke the serenity of the forest. Faramir tensed from my shouting, but I didn't much care. I was relieved and good gracious – it's a _party!_ "You never told me it was your birthday!"

"Well… You didn't ask."

"Fair enough," I nodded. I held out my palm to him. "Here, hop on! You're probably tired from walking around all day."

He stared at my hand wide-eyed.

"Oh, come on! Birthdays don't happen every day! …Er, that was a terrible lie. _Your_ birthday doesn't happen every day! Come on, we're burning daylight!"

Faramir inched towards my hand, but he was too slow for me. Reaching out, I scooped him up in a quick grab and tossed him onto my shoulder. "Hang on, buddy!"

Faramir clung desperately to my neck as I picked up the berries I gathered and started sprinting back through Fugue towards camp screaming out the lyrics to _Aaron's Party_.

* * *

><p>"I swear it's not poison."<p>

Faramir hadn't said a word in over an hour. Perhaps it was because I had decorated my campsite with flowers. Or maybe it was because I wrapped a bunch of black raspberries in leaves as gifts for him to open. It could even have been because of the seed cake I had made him that he refused to eat at this very moment.

Or he just didn't like birthdays.

I took the seed cake and broke off a piece. It was basically bird food that I had mashed into meal to resemble a birthday cake for him. Gross. But to prove it was edible I stuck a bit in my mouth and swallowed. "Mm…!" I gagged and smiled convincingly. "Good! Try it?"

Sitting across from me on the ground with the tiny cake between us, Faramir crawled forward and finally took a handful. He hadn't set down 'Laura' since I gave her to him, but after he munched for a moment, he let Laura go and dove in for more of the seed cake.

"You like it?" I asked excitedly, not bothering to hide the surprise in my voice.

"Mm-hm!" He nodded happily.

I enjoyed watching him eat for a little bit – I mean, he was freaking adorable. So tiny and squishy!

Swallowing, Faramir spoke up. "Cake is my favorite!" His voice had changed. It matched his size more; like it went up an octave. And his eyes weren't dull, they were bright and wide. "Sweet cakes, pound cakes, frosted cakes, warm cakes, fruit cakes, vegetable cakes – all cake!"

"Really?" I asked. I was shocked at his immediate change in personality. _This was all coming from cake?_ "Wow, you… didn't really seem like a cake person. …Well, _now_ you do."

"Well, you didn't seem like a good cook. _Now_ you do," He retorted as he finished off the cake.

I actually didn't have anything to say to that.

Licking his fingers, Faramir looked up. "Thank you for the cake. Sherry, right?"

"Uh-huh!" I nodded. "I'm glad you liked it! I'll be sure to make them for you more often."

"As long as you don't sing that song anymore."

I frowned. "What song?"

"That one with the—"

I interrupted him, breaking out into song as was my habit. "'Everyone come together, sing it loud~!'"

"Yeah!" He interrupted me the moment he recognized the tune. "No."

I put my hands on my hips defensively. "Hey, my inner 90's kid is offended! It's a good song!"

"It's a terrible song."

"Yeah, it's pretty bad," I caved, leaning back on my hands in defeat. "So how old are you today?"

Faramir shrugged. "Why?"

"You don't know?!"

"Why would you count?" He asked innocently.

It was a good question. Good enough that I was left speechless again.

This was certainly a change I hadn't been expecting. The timid creature I was just getting acquainted with had suddenly become this warm, cuddly ball of cake-loving cuteness. As I thought this, staring around at the trees, Faramir was busy looking for any seed crumbs he might have dropped in the dirt.

His brighter mood was a good opportunity to say the least. I was determined to learn more about him. "What brought you here, Faramir?"

"Where's that?" He asked, sitting down and licking his fingers.

"Here," I spread my arms. "Out in the middle of this forest. Aren't you lonesome?"

The pointy-eared fellow reached for his acorn friend Laura and held her close, resting his chin on top of her cap. "Sometimes."

I waited a moment, but it became apparent he didn't or wasn't going to answer my first question. Pushing my luck, I said: "I'm here because I'm a survivalist. I'm going to travel the world!"

"Wow."

"Yeah!" I nodded, more enthusiastic. I pulled my purple ponytail over my shoulder and played with the rough ends of my hair. "This is my first stop. It's nice here… Though I couldn't live out here by myself for long. How long have you been here?"

Faramir shrugged his little shoulders up and down. "Awhile."

"Is there something you're hiding?" I asked jokingly. "You're not some kind of convict are you?"

The jest wasn't taken the way I thought it would be. His eye lids drooped, and he sounded guilty. "Sort of…"

_Well, that was certainly interesting. A tiny criminal of the world of magic? Faramir was making my book for sure._ "What do you mean?"

He shifted uncomfortably from my questions, and I started to feel bad for interrogating him on his birthday. But he finally cracked and said: "I… I'm not good enough."

"What do you mean you're—Faramir, are you crying?" My voice grew considerably softer as I spread myself out on my stomach so I could get closer.

The little guy sniffled, wiping his sleeves across his red face. "N-no!"

"Aw, sh, sh!" I comforted him, patting his back lightly with my pinkie finger. "It's okay… Don't cry!"

"It's n-not okay!" Faramir wailed. "Just look at me!"

He turned around and waited for me to acknowledge something. All I saw was the back of his coat, and his lop-sided cap. I didn't understand. "You look fine to me—"

"_Wings!_" He said, holding the offending blank space and scooting back around. "I haven't got a-any! I'm the only Harvest Sprite who can't f-fly! I had to leave; I-I was useless!"

The now self-proclaimed 'Harvest Sprite' blubbered and gulped as he tried to calm himself from his sudden hysterics. I didn't know anything about any 'Harvest Sprites.' Nana certainly never mentioned anything like that... _What could I say?_

Faramir continued to cry, his little chest heaving. "And I'm so small! E-everyone's b-b-bigger than me! I can't do anything!"

"That's not true!" I defended him from himself. "Faramir, you've been very helpful to me."

"How?" He asked.

Simple enough question. Difficult answer. The first thing I had to avoid was saying 'well.' That was a dead giveaway I didn't believe whatever it was I said afterward. "W—er, I mean, you…"

"Eat all your food," He pouted. "That's all I'm ever good at!"

"That's true – you ate my cooking! No one ever eats my cooking. But then again, I don't cook for anybody…" So far, I was doing a poor job of presenting a case for his worth. I tapped my chin. "But you're very helpful, Faramir! What would I do without you to coach me? You tell me what berries are ready so I don't pick the unripe ones."

He wasn't convinced. Faramir coughed into his over-sized white sleeves.

"And you know how many berries and roots I can take without hurting the environment!"

"Well…"

Glad to see he was coming around, I put my cherry on top of my feel good sundae: "And how about that mushroom? You knew all about it! Without your help, I most certainly would've eaten it or thrown it away – both of which are dire mistakes. I would've been doomed!"

"I don't know about doomed…" Faramir admitted quietly. "But I did know about the Fugue Mushroom…"

"See?" I smiled, sitting up. "I'm sure you know plenty of other things about the forest, too. About this whole island! Without you, I don't know what I'd do. Probably drive myself crazy talking to Wilson over there," I jabbed my thumb at the distraught volleyball who was slowly being replaced by the Harvest Sprite.

"You're pretty crazy without W-Wilson…" Faramir cracked a small smile.

I put my hands on my hips. "Oh, I am, am I?"

"Uh-huh!" He nodded more energetically.

"Well, if I'm so crazy and clueless, I'm definitely going to need your help. And maybe I can help you, too. You can ride around on my shoulder. If you want to, that is," I offered, giving my left shoulder a tap like I was saving him a seat at the lunch table.

He put a finger to his chin, cradling Laura in his lap. "Hm… I'll have to think about it."

"You'll have to think about it?" I asked skeptically, crossing my arms like I was offended.

"Okay, done thinking!" Faramir shouted. "Looks like you need me after all. I don't have a choice."

"No, you most certainly don't!" I pounced and caught him in my hands. Instead of freaking out like I almost thought he would, Faramir squealed with merry laughter as I scooped him up and prodded his belly to tickle him. He was small enough to fit comfortably in the palm of my hand – how big were Harvest Sprites if he was apparently so small?

My questions would be answered another day. For this day, my new friend and I would finish celebrating a numberless birthday and enjoying the start of a long journey together.

* * *

><p>—Copyright Information—<p>

I do not own anything you may recognize which includes but is not limited to the Harvest Moon franchise, the name Faramir from The Lord of the Rings, or any songs used by Celtic Woman or Enya. This is a fan-made story only intended for the entertainment purposes of others.


	7. Of Rain and Campfire Songs

Sorry my updates are so slow. When my other two stories are out of the way, I'll be able to focus on this. Thanks for hanging around though! :D

Also, the ballad and the drinking song are obviously not mine. Ireland! YEAH.

* * *

><p><strong>Of Rain and Campfire Songs<strong>

* * *

><p>True to my fears, the clouds broke and everything was soaking wet by the next morning. I spent the majority of my time building up the wet clay to block the water out of my lean-to. The temperature dropped. I huddled under my smelly pine branches shivering, waiting for the rain to stop and the crummy day to end. But as time went on, I started to worry.<p>

Where my door was positioned, I could see Faramir's little hut. That was how I designed it to begin with – in case some sort of psycho leprechauns started pouring out. It was a defensive maneuver. But it turned out to be a little guy named Faramir, a self-proclaimed 'Harvest Sprite.' And watching his house and the puddles around it accumulate, I was afraid he would flood out.

I popped a berry in my mouth, and it turned out to be bitter. I swallowed it anyways, stretched, and finally crawled out of my shelter.

Rain droplets blinded me as my bangs flopped down over my eyes. I stood and slapped them back onto the top of my head. Wasn't exactly in the running for Miss America here.

Wilson was dislodged and rolled out of the shelter after me. I pointed a stern finger at him like I was talking to a dog. "Wilson – stay! I don't need your moral support."

He shed a tear, but the volleyball didn't move again.

I quickly hopped over to the sprite house and took shelter under the pine tree behind it. I knelt down, my heart skipping a beat. I had to think for a moment before I realized I was rather scared.

_Scared? Of what? A cake-eating, little marshmallow? Get a grip!_

There was still a sense of mystery about the little hut that set me off. Thinking about Faramir too long made me question reality in general, which was quite a weight on my mind. It was intimidating. It was an enigma. And even though I was an eccentric person, I considered myself a logical one. Then again, nothing here was illogical. Just… impractical?

Biting my lip, I tapped on the door. It was small and I was afraid of breaking it, so I only used two fingers. When I didn't get an answer, I decided to be impulsive enough to open it myself.

On my hands and knees, I put my face as close to the muddy ground as I dared. A rather nasty wind scattered heavy rain from the branch above onto my back, making me shudder. Squinting, I peered into the itty bitty room. "Faramir?"

The house had one room that was dark and completely void of furniture. I had imagined a quaint living room at least, but his house wasn't much better than mine. Puddles were everywhere and some created gaps under his walls to the outside. The white cloaked bundle was huddled up on the opposite wall of the door holding Laura the acorn tight. His beady eyes shut at the entrance of light.

"Hey, Faramir, whatcha doing?" I asked softly. "Come on – it's getting really wet out here! Why don't you room with me until this lets up, huh?"

Blinking, he shook his head. "Nah… It's okay."

I sat up straighter and put my hands on my hips. "It's not okay! Don't be silly – you're going to catch cold out here."

"Doesn't matter…" His voice was even tinier than usual.

"It does, too!" I argued. Why was he being this way? It was so pathetic and sad. I stuck my hand through the door. "Here, hop on. I'll carry you!"

When Faramir didn't move, I let out a huff of irritation. Wilson watched me across camp, snickering at how dirty I was getting. I winced and reached further in his house. "Hey, you promised you'd look after me, right?"

Faramir begrudgingly replied. "Right…"

"Well, I'm going to hold up my end of the bargain and look after you, too. Come on – we're in this together now!" I sat back on my heels and used the back of my wrist to wipe some mud off my face.

It took a moment, but Faramir appeared at the doorway. In one arm he had Laura, and slung on his shoulder was a stick with a fabric parcel tied firmly in place. I gave him an encouraging smile. "There we go! Now let's get inside – it's freezing out here!"

Faramir silently scaled my hand, taking his time. When he was safe and sound in my palm, I quickly ran us back to my shelter, eager to get out of the rain. I gave Wilson a punt to the door, missed, and he went spiraling off towards the tree line. _Eh, I'll get him later._

I crawled underneath the pine roof, careful not to wreck my shelter and keep Faramir comfortable in my wet and muddy hand. Finally out of the weather, I was much more grateful for my shelter. I was lucky enough to still have some dust on the floor. I was a successful shelter-builder and survivalist after all!

"Ding! All passengers please disembark. This is our final stop," I chimed, putting my hand close to the ground. Faramir hopped down and looked around the room. "It's not much, but at least it's dry, right?"

It seemed he was back to his original, quiet self. I gathered it was because he had spilled so much yesterday at his birthday 'party.' I couldn't blame him for being standoffish or embarrassed for all the tears. The little guy seemed to have quite a bit on his mind and a heavy burden to bear all alone.

The Harvest Sprite untied his pack, and I stifled a giggle as I watched him. He had packed a berry. And some sort of folded paper. It took me a minute to realize the paper was the same one he stole from one of my plant books.

"Well, make yourself at home! It doesn't look like the rain's going to stop any time soon," I awkwardly tried to strike up conversation again. "Um… Do you know any ways to pass the time? Campfire songs?"

"Songs?" Faramir asked. He strategically placed his things around him and sat in the center looking up at me, holding Laura in his lap.

"Yeah!" I said.

"I don't know any songs you would know," he shook his head stubbornly.

"Like you know any of the ones I sing?" I rolled my eyes. I hugged my knees to my chest, wishing for a blanket and a warm shower. "Come on, sing me something!"

Faramir shook his head again. "The songs my people sing don't have words. The ones that do are very sacred. I wasn't granted such a song."

It confused me that anyone could be 'granted' a song. But perhaps it was another weird sprite thing. I let out a sigh. "Hm… Well, then we'll have to make do with my campfire songs. Have you ever heard the one about the man who stole the corn for his starving wife and baby and was banished from Ireland?"

"What?!"

"Of course you haven't!" I interrupted his horror and started to sing the chorus.

"Low lie the Fields of Athenry  
>Where once we watched the small free birds fly.<br>Our love was on the wing we had dreams and songs to sing  
>It's so lonely 'round the Fields of Athenry."<p>

Faramir's face said it all. I put a hand to my chin. "Hm… Maybe something a bit chipper then. See, I mostly only know Irish ballads… well, that and contemporary artists who aren't fit for a rainy day. Oh, I've got an idea! I think this suits us quite well.

I've been a wild rover for many's the year!  
>And I've spent all me money on whiskey and beer.<br>But now I'm returnin' with gold in great store,  
>And I never will play the wild rover no more.<p>

And it's no, nay, never!  
>No, nay, never, no more!<br>Will I play the wild rover,  
>No, never, no more!"<p>

The sprite seemed more pleased with that one, so I sang the next verse. When it was time for the chorus, I insisted he sing along and clap with me.

"But what do I do?" Faramir asked, holding his hands up above Laura in a 'ready to clap' position. His baggy sleeves slid down to his tiny, thin elbows.

I was just excited he was willing to give it a try, so I was all smiles when I explained. "Just clap like this – clap, clap, clap, clap, clap! 'No, nay, never, no more!' Now you do it with me, okay? 'And it's no, nay, never!'"

Faramir obediently clapped his hands together five times with me. His were so quiet I couldn't hear them over the rain outside.

"'No, nay, never, no more! Will I play the wild rover… No, never, no more!' Ha! You're good at this!" I giggled.

Faramir smiled wide like a toddler and hugged the acorn. "That was fun! I just wish we had some cake…"

"Does cake make everything better?" I asked somewhat mischievously.

"Everything!" Faramir insisted. He sighed and we were quiet a moment before his round eyes slid up to meet mine. "You know… You're not half bad for a human."

"Gee, thanks," I said. "And you're not half bad yourself. Whatever you are."

"A Harvest Sprite!" He reminded me, bitty hands on his hips and haughty nose in the air. "We're a prestigious league!"

"Okay, okay… How come I've never heard of them before? Are they only on this Castanet place?" I asked, letting my wet hair loose. I winced as I tugged my fingers through it.

Faramir shrugged and pulled his sleeves over his hands. "Mwidunno… Most people can't see us…"

I truly felt a bit special, but the disappointed look on his face kind of ruined it for me. I had a feeling it had something to do with his inability to fly. Perhaps it was something else that was touchy for him. So I let it drop.

"Hey, when the rain stops, I can go gather some more seeds. If you want another seed cake?" I volunteered.

"Yeah!" The sprite cheered and clapped.

I put my finger down in front of him. "High five!"

Luckily, he knew what that was, so I didn't have to explain. Faramir's hand was so tiny that it only spanned my index finger when he reached and hit it as hard as he could.

"You know, I think that—"

My sentence was cut off by a rumble of thunder. Faramir's eyes widened, and I bit my lip. Though we both looked nervously outside, I shrugged it off. "Eh, I wouldn't worry too much. Our shelter will hold…"

Faramir continued to stare outside. I couldn't see his face, but I could tell he had his doubts. When I peeked out the door, I could see that the puddles around his house had completely engulfed it already.

I let out a large yawn. "Well, let's get some sleep while we can, huh? This storm could keep us up all night with that kind of racket…"

The little guy nodded and yawned, too, stretching his arms up over his head. I curled up on the ground and used my smashed duffel bag as a pillow. I let out a sigh and closed my eyes.

To my surprise, there was something crawling up my leg. When I jerked up to see, it was just Faramir looking for a spot to snuggle in. He wordlessly made his way up, carefully keeping his balance. He clung to my dress like a rock climber as he struggled to hold onto Laura as well. When he reached my knees, he dropped down and cocked his head to the side. Suddenly, he made a decision and sat next to my wrist. His knees collapsed underneath him and he face planted next to me.

I smiled and hiked my skirt up, putting the extra fabric around his shoulders. His hand reached up and pulled it to his chin.

Feeling secure, I let my eyes close to get some sleep.

* * *

><p>—Copyright Information—<p>

I do not own anything you may recognize which includes but is not limited to the Harvest Moon franchise, the name Faramir from The Lord of the Rings, or any songs used by Celtic Woman or Enya. This is a fan-made story only intended for the entertainment purposes of others.


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